I Wasn't Expecting You: a collection of Pezberry one-shots
by Pensieri
Summary: Pezberry: These one-shots are the result of prompts I've had and completed via tumblr. I decided to make a collection of them here so they're all in one place and separate to my own ideas that I've written. Further one-shots/drabbles may be added to this as time goes on.
1. How did it end up like this?

**Prompt: pezberry jealousy**

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**How did it end up like this?**

It literally hurts.

Maybe that sounds ridiculous, and you might think I'm throwing out the amateur dramatics, but I can feel it aching inside me. It's not a sharp pain, which is funny because I think I've always assumed that it would be but it turns out it's the complete opposite. It's a dull ache that pounds through me heavily, a continual throbbing that means I can't possibly forget.

Not that I ever could anyway.

How can you forget a feeling that's so strong it consumes every waking moment of your life, not to mention the vast majority of your dreams too?

If someone had told me that moving to New York would change my life quite so dramatically then I'd probably have laughed in their face, unable to believe their words. Yet here I am, sat pining after a girl that I continually humiliated throughout high school.

I won't go into the details of the how and why, because quite frankly it doesn't really matter. Plus, I've analysed it in my mind more times than could be considered healthy, and it never does me any good.

The fact of the matter is that I've got feelings for Rachel, and try as I may, there's no stopping them.

I came to the conclusion long ago now that they're not going anywhere anytime soon. They go too deep. They hurtled into my life like a speeding bullet, and it appears that once that bullet hit its target it lodged itself irretrievably deep inside me, instantly becoming a permanent fixture in my life.

Brody is sat on the couch, his ass has been there all day yet Rachel doesn't seem to give a shit. She just thinks it's fantastic that Mr Plastic is always around. In what can only be described as a moment of weakness, my eyes glance over in their direction. Maybe I'm just a masochist, or maybe it's simply testament to how drawn I am to her. It doesn't matter either way because it doesn't change the fact that I can feel the dull blade inside me burrowing deeper, twisting mercilessly as my eyes memorise everything about the scene in front of me. It's not right, none of it is, and the worst part is there's nothing I can do about it.

She's curled up around him, her head resting on his shoulders, and all I can think about is how that should be me beside her instead. The whole thing just looks so wrong.

His arm isn't wrapped around her like mine would be because I know if she were in my arms I'd never want to let her go. His eyes are glued to the screen, watching America's Next Top Model and clearly ogling the blonde girl currently sashaying around. It confuses me because I can't understand why he'd want to look anywhere else but at her. Her head is resting on his shoulder, but she doesn't look entirely comfortable and I think (not for the first time) about how perfectly her head fits on my shoulder. I know it does because whenever she forces me to watch any of her movies, and Brody is miraculously absent, she leans against me instead of him and it all feels so right that it hurts. She fits perfectly into me, and it's as beautiful as it is painful.

It's in those moments that I allow myself to daydream that one day we'll be like that as more than just friends, but inevitably something always brings me crashing back down to reality and I realise how foolish I'm being.

My mind is forced to stop wandering when Kurt enters the apartment and flops down on the chair opposite me. America's Next Top Model is just finishing and I see Kurt go for the remote like a vulture before anybody else even has a chance to blink.

"We should totally finishing watching 'The Wizard of Oz' since we had to stop it before the end last night. What do you think?" he says, his words not really a question at all since he's already firing up the DVD player.

Rachel nods, looking up at Brody who is finally showing her some attention now that the TV screen is no longer quite so entertaining. He grins down at her and kisses her, his actions only increasing the jealousy I feel inside every single time he touches her. He pulls her into him, one hand running down her side as he deepens their kiss, and that's when it happens.

It might be because I've had a shitty day, or because I'm over-tired, or because I'm hungry and really can't face eating take out once again. It might be a combination of all of those things. Normally I'd have the capacity to deal with this but all I know is that having to watch Rachel and Brody making out right in front of me is way too much to cope with right now.

"For fuck's sake, as if having to watch your goddamn musicals every single night isn't enough we've got our resident Ken doll trying to shoot a bad porn film on the fucking couch," my emotions explode inside me and the words shoot out of my mouth, uncontrolled and unedited.

I launch myself across the room, walking as fast as I possibly can towards the door and away from the situation. I hate the fact that the door slides because right now I know slamming a door would be sort of therapeutic. But I have no choice. I need to be out of the apartment, and away from them, so this is my only option.

I don't even make it down the corridor before I hear her voice behind me.

"Santana! What is the matter with you?"

I can hear the hurt in her voice but it does nothing to stop the tirade of words building inside me, itching to find a way out in the hope it'll make me feel slightly better, "Excuse me if I don't want to sit and watch you suck on Brody's plastic lips anymore. He's an absolute douchebag and the sooner you see that the better."

"Santana…" Rachel has stepped towards me, her voice is low and she's clearly trying to diffuse the situation but it's no good.

"God, Rach, you must be blind because you can't even see how much he's playing you. He disappears for periods of time with no real explanation. He has wads of cash hidden in his bags and you think that's not shady?" My rant continues, the words spilling out of me so quickly I feel like I've lost all sense of control, "You can do so much better but you're too afraid of being alone to see it."

I can immediately tell from Rachel's eyes that she is no longer going to attempt to reason with me, my harsh words the catalyst for the loss of her calm and collected manner, "For your information Brody has explained to me exactly why he has that money, not that it was any of your business in the first place. You showed up here, uninvited I may add, yet Kurt and I have been nothing but welcoming. You've searched through our personal belongings, you've accused my boyfriend of being a drug dealer and now I'm not even allowed to kiss him in front of you? It's completely and utterly unreasonable."

"He's not right for you and you know it."

Her arms are crossed over her chest as she responds snappily, "Well I happen to think otherwise, thank you very much and I don't know what you think it has to do with you anyway."

"I care about you!"

"That doesn't give you the right to dictate whom I should be dating. I don't see why my love life bothers you so much anyway. You've never cared before."

Before I know it I've closed the gap between us, my feet moving of their own accord towards Rachel, as though there's this invisible wire pulling me closer to her. I don't even know what I'm thinking but within a split second my lips are crushed against hers, one hand on her waist as I pull her in towards me. The actions of my lips replace the words I cannot bring myself to say.

It takes me a second to fully appreciate the magnitude of what I'm doing.

Fuck, I'm kissing Rachel Berry.

Just as I'm pulling away, the realisation of my actions flooding through me, I swear I feel her lips begin to respond, but the moment is fleeting and I can't trust that it wasn't all just wishful thinking. I stare at her for a second, desperately hoping that I haven't just ruined everything we have between us.

"Rach…"

My voice trails off, my mind unable to find the right words to say. She's still stood there, frozen to the spot.

"I…" she begins, but stops suddenly. The lack of words coming from her is unsettling, adding to the panic building inside me.

All I want is for her to tell me she feels the same way, that she's been wishing for this moment as much as I have, but she doesn't. Rachel never normally stops talking, yet here she is, standing right in front of me and not a word is leaving her mouth. The silence that surrounds us is thick and heavy, and I can feel it beginning to suffocate me.

It's then that it all becomes too much. What the hell have I just done? Since I moved to New York the two of us have managed to forge a friendship and here I am completely wrecking it. Shit. Rachel isn't gay, and even if she _was_ remotely interested in girls she has a boyfriend. Everything about this situation is wrong, and I can hear the alarm bells ringing in my head, telling me to evacuate and escape the fire that I've created around us.

As I turn on my heel and walk away, the last remnants of hope leave my heart as my words tumble out, thick with the sound of tears that I can no longer hold back, "I'm so sorry."


	2. I should've never thought of you

**Prompt: The first time Santana found herself actually contemplating starting a relationship with Rachel**

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**I should've never thought of you**

It's cold.

In fact, it's downright freezing (and completely disgusting).

Yet still, Santana takes a sip and grimaces as the coffee trickles unpleasantly down her throat. It's the fourth time in the past five minutes she's accidentally done that, and that would be alright if the coffee was meant to be iced but it wasn't. It was meant to be hot, black, full of sugar, and filling her with invigorating caffeine but instead, it's sitting in her hands and has been for the past half an hour.

To be precise it has been sitting there, untouched and forgotten, for exactly 34 minutes.

Coincidentally, it has also been 34 minutes since Rachel walked into the kitchen and started cooking dinner. Not that Santana noticed of course. No, Santana absolutely did not notice when Rachel casually sauntered in and put her iPod in the docking station. Nor did she notice when her friend started doing an adorable little dance along to the music while she was chopping up a pepper.

Nope. Not at all. Definitely not…

Except that she totally did.

She noticed every tiny detail about the entire scene, almost as though it had played in slow motion. From the way that Rachel's hair was still slightly damp from her shower, to the way she chopped in time to the beat, to the way she stuck her tongue out slightly in concentration when she removed the seeds. She noticed it all.

And to make matters worse, this was not the first cup of coffee that had been neglected due to Rachel Berry's presence. The fact was that, as much as Santana wanted to deny it, whenever Rachel entered a room, Santana's head seemed to go into outer space.

It had started simply. A look of appreciation here and there, noticing Rachel's choice of clothing (which seemed infinitely better in New York than it ever had in Lima), or enjoying the smell of her perfume. Little things that didn't need to mean anything complex. But over time Santana had found that those small and rather unimportant things had turned into very important things indeed.

Now those same appreciations were accompanied by an uncontrollable swirling in her stomach, an inexplicably dry throat, and a light sheen of sweat on her palms. Rachel made her feel nervous, she made her feel confused, and without a shadow of a doubt, she made her feel turned on.

The very notion that she could possibly find Rachel Berry attractive seemed ridiculous, yet it was completely and utterly undeniable. After all, she had tried to avoid this conclusion for the past 3 months, but still here she was, having reached it all the same.

At first she had tried to tell herself that it was just lust. After all, Rachel had gained all this confidence since she moved to New York, and confidence was downright sexy, but time had washed that idea firmly away, because it wasn't just the physical that Santana was noticing (and enjoying). Sure, she couldn't help but notice Rachel's legs, toned from her rigorous dancing regime at NYADA, and her lips, full and soft, but it was much more than that. It wasn't just her ass, and her abs, it was all these other things that were captivating Santana's mind too.

The way she ran her hand through her hair when she was nervous, the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, the way she walked, the way she spoke, the way she sighed, the way she sang, the way she did just about everything and anything. It was all firmly etched in Santana's brain, as though someone had gone and tattooed all these fine details onto her frontal lobe and now they couldn't be ignored.

It was in that very moment, a moment that to anybody else wouldn't have seemed particularly special at all, that Santana finally realised something that she probably should have understood weeks ago.

Rachel's knife cut down sharply into the soft flesh of the pepper, her bum wiggling along to the music as she did, and as the cool metal blade hit the hard wood of the chopping board Santana's brain finally accepted the undeniable truth.

Santana didn't want to be holding a cup of cold coffee in her hand, she'd prefer it to be Rachel's hand occupying that space, their fingers wrapped around each other's. Santana didn't want her lips to be touching the smooth ceramic mug, she wanted them to be locked onto Rachel's, kissing her furiously into the night. Most importantly, as painfully cheesy as it was, she didn't want to be taking that girl she met on the subway on a date tomorrow night, in fact she couldn't care less about her, she'd much rather be taking Rachel out instead.

Rachel turned round, a soft smile on her face, "You're quiet, Santana. Something on your mind?"

Santana shook her head, plastering a smile on her face and hoping it didn't seem too fake, "Just been a long day, that's all."

But that wasn't all, and she knew it.

As much as she didn't want to be, she was completely and utterly falling for Rachel Barbra Berry, and it seemed she was powerless to stop it.


End file.
